The Dead and The Damned
by LadySpontaneity
Summary: Men go to battle. Women wage wars... even on the dead. Rick's group has been captured by Negan and the Saviours. But will it be coup or consequences when an unlikely ally emerges from among the ranks of Negan's group? Eventual Darryl/OC. Takes place immediately after the Season 6 Finale.
1. Chapter 1: Persephone

_**New story! So I got this idea when watching the season finale of Walking Dead. I noticed a distinct lack of women in Negan's group. That's not to say there aren't any as we saw some only a couple of episodes ago. But I think it must take a special kind of woman to survive Negan's men. This will eventually be a Daryl/OC but the first few chapters will establish the identity of some of Negan's group; in particular Negan's girl! *Shudder and gasp* Enjoy and please review. I love reviews!**_

* * *

Chapter 1: Persephone

* * *

I wish I could still think of red as a colour. It used to be my favourite. Now it was a way of life; the way of the world; and the way of the damned. Because that's what we all were now.

Dead or damned. I was the latter.

Lucille lay embedded in the head of yet another victim. She brought out the red in people. Not that the poor bastard on the ground deserved it. In a sick twist of fate, Negan had chosen to kill the redhead of the group, a large man who looked like he had once been in the army.

I could hear the heavy, excited breathing of the men around me. They watched the exchange with hungry, savage eyes. Not one of them looked away and not one of them held any pity for the group we'd captured. I thought of all the people we'd killed, the lives we'd stolen and the pity I used to feel. That pity had long since given way to determination. That would _not_ be _me_.

Sobs broke through the sickening sounds of excitement and my eyes flicked to the source. A woman with dark skin shook with such ferocity that one would think she was having a seizure. She had one knee raised and my stomach twisted as I realised that she had attempted to go to his aid. I knew it was only Negan's threat to the boy mere feet from me that had stopped her.

"He _will_ die," Dwight said from behind her. "So you stay right there, Sweetheart. Or you and the boy will join him."

I returned my attention to the redhead and my gut clenched again as I realised that he had yet to actually die. _Tough bastard_. He stirred feebly, Lucille jutting out grotesquely from the left side of his neck and head. That Negan had left the barbed bat embedded in his skull while the man was still alive showed how much he wanted this group to suffer.

He sidled up to the bleeding man and I almost looked away when he gave the handle of the bat a rough shake, dragging the barbs further into the man's flesh as he gurgled and choked. Blood welled out of his mouth and I could see the pulsing artery in his neck as his heart pumped his own blood out through his wounds. So much red.

"I'll kill you." The words were spoken so softly, so quietly that I almost hadn't heard. The attention of every man in our group was now centred upon the one who had spoken. The leader.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Negan playfully lifted a hand to his ear, cupping it at the shell. "I didn't quite hear you."

The leader lifted his chin and levelled Negan with a look of pure hatred. I had seen it often. "I said," his voice only slightly louder this time, "I am going to kill you. Slowly."

"No," Negan said, his playfulness vanishing in an instant. "You and your little band of murderers are going to work for me." His lips quirked slightly. "Hell, you seem to have a talent for murder. Maybe I'll get you to _kill_ for me."

"We won't." The other beaten man, the one we'd captured earlier, spoke with a heavy Southern accent. "We won't join yer pack o' psychopaths."

Dwight suddenly seized the back of the man's hair, spitting into his face furiously. "You don't seem to understand," he hissed at him. "We're not asking you to join us. You're going to work for us. You answer to Negan now."

"Or this," Negan grunted slightly as he heaved Lucille from the man's cranium, pointing the head of the bat at the dying man. "Will happen to each of you. Until there are none of you left."

A dead silence settled over the group and Negan smiled in satisfaction. "There'll always be more men," he said, almost mockingly. "And while I could certainly use people like yourselves, let there be no mistake, I _will_ kill you if you prove to be liabilities."

He looked to the redhead again, tilting his head in fascination as the man finally breathed his last breath. A shuddering gasp left the dark woman and I tried not to turn away as I witnessed the flood of tears flowing down her face. I hated when people cried.

Negan sighed. "Bring them," he commanded his lieutenants. "They can work at base until I'm convinced they won't do anything stupid."

Several men moved forward to seize them and Dwight barked his orders at them. "Blindfold and bind them first," he warned. "They're tougher than they look." He laughed as though he had just made some great joke. He moved aside as the group were dragged forward and loaded into the trucks. Negan disappeared into the crowd and my feet moved of their own accord to follow him.

"Celebrations tonight!" Voices hooted beside me and my shoulders tensed as I pulled myself into the nearest van. What was there to celebrate? More than fifty dead and all for a handful of people who probably wouldn't survive the ride back to base?

"Negan will be up for a party," Dwight chuckled as he piled in beside me, clapping the shoulder of Garrison who slid in across from me. Garrison's eyes were alight with something unfamiliar. I stared at him in puzzlement until Dwight finally seemed to notice me, shooting me a broad grin.

"You've been quiet tonight, Princess," he said smoothly with a sleazy wink.

I closed my eyes, letting the mask fall back into place. I wasn't sure anymore if the façade was becoming easier or if I was simply becoming more rigid. I looked at Dwight beneath my lashes.

"Just thinking of all the things I'm gonna do to _him_ tonight," I murmured, tugging on my bottom lip with my teeth.

It wasn't hard and men were so malleable. Dwight's eyes darted to my lips and his face clouded over in lust. "Lucky guy," he whispered and I settled back into my seat, twirling the ends of my long, brown hair as though in contemplation.

"In fact," I said cheekily, "I wouldn't count on him being able to attend the party tonight."

"Cock tease," Dwight groaned, leaning forward and thumping Garrison on the chest. "Didn't I tell you tonight would be worth it?" Garrison shoved his arm away, not out of spite from what I could tell but he did seem rather agitated.

"Sure," he said tonelessly, staring out at the trees as the van pulled away.

Dwight gave a low whistle. "What's eating you?"

"Nothing," he said in a bored voice. "Just don't see the point in celebrating depleted numbers."

I tried not to let my surprise show. Truthfully, in all their conceitedness, I hadn't even considered that some of the group actually cared for the people they'd lost; least of all the men I was currently with.

"They'll pay," I said truthfully. But it wouldn't come from my hands. I already knew what Negan had in store for them and I almost shuddered at the thought. _They don't deserve it_.

"Later," Dwight said dismissively. "Tonight I wanna party!"

A chorusing jeer of approval sounded from the driver's seat and I subtly rolled my eyes in disgust.

"Besides," Dwight grinned evilly. "Maybe our new guests can _join_ tonight's festivities."

* * *

I stood in front of the vanity, dabbing on ruby red lip gloss and giving my hair a final fluff before stepping back to judge my appearance. This routine I'd gotten into felt conceited and contrived but it was how I had survived thus far. And I knew my efforts were best spent here than anywhere else. If there was anything I could possibly do to spare the people we'd captured tonight, it was this.

The door behind me creaked open just as I was arranging myself into an attractive pose against the dresser. I quickly looked down, gauging the heavy breasts that were spilling out of the red push up I had clipped into place only minutes before. Yep, I was definitely damned. I looked up again as the door slowly swung shut.

And just like that, I was alone with Hades.

"Christ, you're beautiful."

I smiled as Negan approached me, sliding myself further along the dresser. The gesture appeared coy but I'd be lying if I said it wasn't because I despised Negan with every fibre of my being. His antics with me had never been cruel and he had never, not once, abused me the way some of his men did the other girls. I think this made me despise him more. In his own way, Negan _cared_ for me and I hated him for it.

My demureness had the intended effect however and Negan's lips quirked to one side. "I was supposed to party with the boys tonight," his said in a deep voice. "But if I'm expected to walk out of here with _you_ looking like _that_ …" He trailed off suggestively.

My hands fell to my thighs and I trailed my fingers up my fishnet stockings. "I haven't seen you much lately," I pouted. "You've been so busy… with _work_." It was amazing how even when it was the end of the world, men still wanted women who waited for them. As though they were our sole purpose in life.

He raised an eyebrow. "You didn't need to do all this to get my attention, Darlin," he murmured appreciatively, moving to follow me. I slid just out of reach again.

I raised an eyebrow in return. "Clearly I did," I said in barely a whisper, backing up towards the bed.

Negan quickly tired of my cat and mouse game and he moved swiftly, pulling me flush against him. There was a time when my skin used to crawl when I touched him but now, it felt heated and my traitorous body welcomed the contact.

"It's distracting," Negan growled in my ear, nipping the lobe as I gasped. "You know how important my work is. I'm trying to create a new order."

I pulled away, placing my hands behind his neck as I stared at him with wide, green eyes.

"Of course. They deserve everything they get," I lied, speaking of his prisoners. "They don't understand your order." I leaned towards him now, breathing softly against his lips and letting my lashes brush against his cheeks. "But I do," I whispered against his lips. "And I think I deserve a little reward for that, don't you?"

Negan chuckled darkly, playing along as he moved us backward toward the bed. "And just what would you have of me?" He asked, his feral eyes alight as he ran a thumb over my lower lip.

"I need you inside me," I purred, yelping slightly when he hoisted me up around his waist. I curled my legs around him and we tumbled onto the bed.

His hands were everywhere, knotted in my hair, sliding down my legs and moving over my chest. His mouth moved to my breasts as he finally released them from the D-Cup bra I was wearing. Warm, moist lips descended upon my left nipple and I tried to forget who I was doing this with. I gasped, and raked my nails down his back in retaliation. His hiss of pleasure was momentarily drowned out by a knock at the door.

Negan wrestled his lips away from me long enough to hiss at the intruder. "Fuck off," he growled at the door. "I'm busy."

"Boss?" The man who interrupted obviously hadn't heard him. "When can we play with the prisoners?"

"Tomorrow!" Negan all but shouted as my hands stole down to cup him through his leather pants. "Now fuck off before I rip out your vocal cords!"

The sound of hurried footsteps running away as fast as they could sent a thrill through me. The prisoners would be spared one night. But that was all I could give them.

I pushed my breasts into Negan's hands eagerly even as I tugged at his shirt. He quickly stripped himself of it, and shuddered above me as I stroked him through his pants.

I hooked my leg further around his waist and then flipped us. Negan allowed it as I was only slight against his larger frame. His hands moved to my hips as I rocked against him, still protected by a flimsy slip of lacy underwear.

"Your lips," he murmured, his hands forcing me to rock faster against him. "It's like you've got blood on them."

Of course a psychopath like him would think like that.

"Oh yeah?" I murmured huskily. "I'm more interested in the blood," I gave a sharp thrust of my hips against his groin and he grunted in satisfaction, "in _here_."

His patience finally wore through and he flipped us back over so he was on top. My stalling had come to an end.

"I need you," he snarled. "Now."

I smiled in equal parts satisfaction and resignation. "I know," I mouthed as he ducked down to lavish attention on my breasts once more.


	2. Chapter 2: Harley Quinn

Chapter 2: Harley Quinn

* * *

"You haven't trained in a while," Negan noted as I pulled on a silk robe. He was reclining against the pillows on our bed, arms behind his head as he casually observed me while I dressed.

I pushed my hair behind my ears, crossing my arms somewhat defensively. He didn't know the real reason for my absence but the fact that he had mentioned it prickled my defences.

"I've had no one to train with." I tried to keep the defensiveness out of my voice as I picked up a hair tie from the dresser, pulling my long hair into a messy bun. "Everyone has been out on runs."

"That's never stopped you before," he said flatly.

I paused. He did not sound suspicious but he expected an answer. He always did.

"It's Kaitlin," I murmured, turning to face him. "She's been… particularly bad this week."

He slowly lowered his arms. "Garrison told you?" he asked.

I lowered my eyes, feigning guilt. "I saw her."

His gaze turned cold and he was immediately up from the bed. He wrapped a sheet around his hips, not breaking my gaze and I narrowed my eyes at him. I played the part of the submissive girlfriend when I needed to. This was not the time.

"Why were you hiding it from me?" I demanded. "She's worsening."

"Insanity doesn't get worse," he said angrily. "It takes a hold."

"She's not dying," I spat. It was easy when I could pretend to be mad at him. I was always mad at him. "She needs a proper night's sleep. The nightmares are too much for her."

"I am not wasting any more medical resources on that crazy bint." The iciness in his voice held a note of finality and I balled my fists in fury.

"Because sleeping pills are a real necessity," I muttered sarcastically.

Negan's eyes flashed. "I'll confine her in the medical wing. But she doesn't get meds this time."

I moved towards the door. "I'm going to see her."

His arm shot out, slamming the door shut the moment I pulled on the handle. "Go to training," he said in a low voice.

I glanced up at him, refusal clear in my gaze. "After."

"No, Darlin," he said, his hand coming up to grip my chin. " _Now."_

* * *

I strode towards the training room, having changed into some gym pants and a black singlet. I wrapped my hands in bandages as I neared the security guard stationed outside the prison cells. He no doubt expected me to turn left towards the training room but I pivoted right instead, smiling smugly as I headed towards Medical. I wasn't watched on a regular basis but the guard was stationed there purposefully to report those who went in and out of Medical and the cells. It would get back to Negan that I had visited Kaitlin.

I wasn't worried. Negan expected my defiance in some things; it was how our relationship worked and how he had come to trust me over the time. If I ever had need to defy him in something more dangerous; it was probably what would spare me. That casual acceptance and even expectation that I couldn't be controlled. But I'd had to prove my loyalty many times before this. In ways that I never wished to again. The bay doors opened easily as I pushed through to the main Medical foyer. I strode past the empty beds (after all, the men who'd fought against our most recent prisoners were all dead) until I got to the confinement room, lifting one hand to the glass window.

There was no one guarding her but then there was no real reason to keep her confined either. I waited patiently until two hands abruptly slapped the other side of the glass, a pale face appearing in the opening. Her face broke into a delighted smile and her shoulders shook with silent giggles. I rolled my eyes as I pried open the bolt on my side of the door. She followed through as the door swung open, staring through the window with her hands plastered to the glass until I had opened the door all the way. The door now faced the wall with Kaitlin still positioned ridiculously on the door frame, staring through the window at the plaster on the other side.

"Kaitlin," I sighed. She broke into hysterical giggles, finally peeling herself away from the door.

"Had you going there, didn't I?" She laughed, clearly delighted with her little game.

I shook my head; Kaitlin was definitely crazy but not in the way that Negan and his men thought she was. They thought she was psychotic, plagued by nightmares of the group she'd murdered when she was found. It was obvious to me the moment I saw her what had really happened. She was the survivor, not the murderer. Mass suicide had been common in the early days.

When her medical background as a nurse was discovered, Kaitlin immediately became an asset despite her obvious unsoundness of mind. Negan even found her amusing at times. But he always felt the need to remind me that she was clearly insane. As if she could ever be worse than any of them. No, Kaitlin was harmless. I knew it and ironically Garrison knew it. I think it was why he had taken her in, to protect her from the other men. It was the only thing he had going for him in my books. What she really suffered from were ghosts. In her mind they spoke to her.

I held my hand out to her expectantly and her face turned serious immediately. She reached into her shoes, pulling out four small capsules and deposited them into my hand. I raised an eyebrow at her questioningly. "Garrison gave me a present," she said with a wink.

"Paracetamol?" I guessed.

She shook her head gleefully. "Oxycodone."

"What?" My eyes widened. "No way!"

"Way." She smiled briefly but it fell away as her hands fumbled with her shirt, pulling it down briefly to show me the red scratch marks on her chest. "I had to try and tear the nightmares out last night to get it."

I seized her hands, pulling them away so I could see the damage. "Kaitlin!" I hissed at her. "We talked about this. What did you do to yourself?" I felt dismayed at seeing her inflamed skin and even more so when she trembled at my outburst.

"I had to," she whispered, pulling away from me. Her eyes welled with tears. "I saw the girl they brought in last night. She _needs_ me."

I'd seen her too. She looked far from healthy when we captured her group last night and it was clear they had been trying to get her aid when Negan intercepted them. I sighed in frustration as I placed Kaitlin's precious gift under the tab in my sneaker, tucking them securely into the pocket I had stitched there. Kaitlin may have had a few marbles rolling around in her head but she knew her medication. The oxycodone would help with whatever pain the girl was in.

"I'll get it to her," I promised and was surprised when Kaitlin immediately seized my wrist.

"No," she gasped. "You can't!"

I stared at her in confusion. "Don't worry, I won't give it all to her. She'd be more drugged up than a crack addict. And Negan would notice."

"No," Kaitlin said firmly, shaking her head, "No drugs. Her little one can't take that."

I waited a beat as her words finally sunk in. "She's pregnant?" I felt a sort of horror wash over me.

"She shouldn't be here," Kaitlin moaned.

"Damn right," I breathed and my horror gave way to fury. _This was going to interfere with everything_. What the hell kind of group was she with, taking on Negan's men when they had a _child_ to worry about?

"I have to go," I said to her quietly.

She nodded in understanding, moving back behind the door so I could lock her in. Garrison would be along to keep her company for a while and he'd convince Negan to let her out soon.

"You watch yourself," I told her, nodding toward her injuries. "If I see you injure yourself again, maybe I won't come see you the next time Negan is in a bad mood."

She let out a miserable sniff. She looked so sad that I couldn't keep the charade up and I cracked a small grin at her. She gave me a watery smile and settled back on the bed in the corner of the room. "Speak to the man with the crossbow," she said suddenly just as I was closing the door. I paused, staring at her and my heart tugged painfully.

"Sweetie, there is no man with a crossbow," I said gently.

She let out an indignant huff. "I'm not talking about my ghosts," she said, rolling her eyes as though she were speaking with a child. "The Southerner they brought in."

I stilled, thinking of the redneck she was talking about. _Him?_ "I'm not bringing any men on board our operation, Kaitlin," I said firmly. "They can't be trusted."

"You need to earn their trust," she insisted. "We don't have the numbers. You said so yourself."

"That's why we wait," I snapped. "We bide our time, just like we always talked about. We pilfer," my eyes darted down to my sneakers, " _resources_ until we have all we need to get the fuck out of here."

Kaitlin looked at me sadly. "We're out of time," she whispered at me imploringly. "They're the only ones who have taken out Negan's lieutenants. Those men were trained and this new group killed over fifty of them." Her eyes begged me. "You _have_ to talk to him."

"He's not even the leader," I tried arguing.

Kaitlin slowed down her words. "You _have_ to talk to him," she enunciated, clearly not deterred. I opened my mouth to argue again but she immediately silenced me with a determined glare.

I sighed in exasperation. "I suppose I could always beat him up for some training."

* * *

 _ **Daryl's POV**_

I don't know how long I lay against the concrete, breathing through my nose and trying to calm the rage that boiled inside of me. Those pricks had dragged me in here hours ago, leaving me to bleed out on the floor. For a while I thought they had actually meant to let me bleed to death until they sent someone in to stitch me up. That bastard who shot Denise blew a hole right through my bloody neck and they had the _nerve_ to stitch me up after.

They should've killed me. Because there was no way in hell that I was letting a single one of them walk out of here when I was done healing. Not after killing Abraham.

The door to my cell banged open and if I hadn't already been plastered to the floor, I would've been knocked on my ass. I growled at the intruder, shifting myself onto my other side so I could face the asshole.

I blinked in confusion however when a petite brunette appeared in my vision, bending down so she could get a clearer look at my face. "Wow," she said softly. "They really did a number on you."

My fury returned. I leaned forward. "Piss off," I spat at her.

She seemed to find this amusing and she smiled slightly as she nodded at the guards behind her. Two men came in and heaved my sorry ass up off the ground, dragging me out into the harsh light. I squeezed my lids shut, hissing against the pain as I tried to gauge my surroundings. My legs scraped uselessly across the floor as I was manhandled down the hallway, the stuck up bitch walking ahead of us. She led us into some sort of training arena and I was mildly impressed by the setup. Was I supposed to fight?

"Over there," the brunette spoke, gesturing to a thick pole that supported a cushioned boxing pad. I realised what her intentions were mere seconds before they strapped me to the pole. I grunted as the bastards yanked my arms behind the pole, securing my hands with zip ties and forcing me into a standing position. I was bound so tight that even the boxing pad, cushioned as it was, somehow managed to dig in to my back. _Fuck_.

The brunette approached me, coming to a stop within arm's reach. "Comfy?" She prompted and the guards chuckled, moving to stand off to the side. I didn't respond, merely glared at her, my eyes darting to her little entourage and back. She was important. I'd gathered that much. Otherwise why else for the security detail?

"You don't wanna talk?" She tilted her head at me curiously.

"Got nothin' ter say," I said through gritted teeth. "So get on with it."

"And what do you think is going to happen here?" Again I didn't answer her and she shrugged.

"Suit yourself," she said casually, stretching her arms behind her back, clearly preparing for whatever torture she had planned. She rolled her neck around, stretching her arms and I scoffed when I realised that she was planning on using her fists.

"Something funny?" She asked, her eyes closed as she stretched.

I managed a smirk. "Just thinking how considerate Negan's bein' by picking a slight, lil thing like you instead o' a real man to start on me."

She delivered a swift kick to my shin so fast that I couldn't stop the gasp of pain that escaped me. She followed that through with a knee thrust to my gut and I felt the wind knocked out of me.

"Still glad?" She demanded, her emerald eyes flashing furiously. I jolted. _Emerald? Where the hell had that come from?_

She shoved her hair out of her eyes and took a step back, breathing heavily. "Why has it always gotta come down to gender with you people?" she demanded.

I coughed, spitting on the ground and almost laughed when she wrinkled her nose in disgust. "I dunno," I muttered sarcastically. "Why did ya feel the need to tie me up in order ta beat on me? S'not like I'm goin' anywhere with injuries like these."

I jerked my head in the direction of her beefy bodyguards. "And what about them? They just for show?"

She narrowed her gaze at me then and stepped right up to my chest. She was short, barely coming up to my chin and I had to tilt my head down slightly to look into her eyes.

She pushed a hand against the wound in my neck and I hissed in pain, closing my eyes against the red, hot agony that seared across my collarbone. I opened my mouth, whether to bite her or to tell her where to shove it, I wasn't sure, but something in her gaze suddenly caught my attention. Her eyes seemed almost… pleading.

" _Everything_ here is for show," she whispered so low that I almost couldn't hear her. She didn't dare turn around now as she mouthed her next words to me. "Including me. So if you want to kill Negan, you'd best learn the theatrics."

I just stared at her. I was never a fast learner.


	3. Chapter 3: Mulan

Chapter 3: Mulan

* * *

I waited to see if the Redneck would catch on to what I was saying, rolling my eyes when he just blinked at me.

"Seriously?" I whispered at him fiercely. "Did you hear me just now?"

"Heard ya," the Redneck answered softly. "Yer lyin."

I raised my eyebrows at him, stepped away and signalled the guards behind me. The Redneck immediately stiffened, his eyes on the men at my back. They stepped closer, awaiting my orders.

"That'll be all boys," I said to them without taking my eyes off my prisoner. "He'll behave."

One of the guards sniggered. "Doubt it," he murmured but they moved to the exit regardless.

As the door shut behind them, the Redneck look at me in surprise.

"Yer not afraid withou' cher bodyguards?" he scoffed.

"They were never here to protect me." I shrugged.

"Why then?"

"Because I asked them to."

"Yer in charge here?" he demanded.

"I think you know who's in charge."

"Then who the hell are you?"

"Why don't you stop asking questions," I snapped at him finally, "and let me just _talk_ , alright?"

His arms strained slightly against their bonds and his lips pulled into a thin line. But he remained silent.

I waited a beat and then turned away from him, moving towards the equipment wall. I was pleased when he remained quiet as I strapped on my padded mitts.

I faced him again, pulling my hands up and tucking my elbows in the way I had learned in boxing class.

"Here's how it's gonna work," I told him. "I'm gonna ask _you_ the questions and you're going to answer them. If I don't like your answer, you get decked. And I'd hate to bruise such a pretty boy face."

He sputtered. " _Pretty boy_?"

I smiled in satisfaction. "Also, you get one pass. Next words out of your mouth better be an answer to my question or I start pulling punches."

"I ain't tellin you shit."

His head snapped to the right as I punched him square across the jaw. I received a stare of pure venom in return.

I stared right back as I raised my arms again. "Why did you come after Negan's men?"

"Go to hell."

Another punch sent his head snapping to the left.

"How did you know where to find us?"

"We asked the tooth fairy."

His lip started bleeding after my third punch and I paused. He must've bitten it; I hadn't even punched him that hard.

"Maybe I'm asking the wrong questions," I said slowly, watching as he flexed his jaw. "How many walkers have you killed?"

He pulled on his lower lip, sucking the blood into his mouth. "How many people have you killed?" I continued, wondering if that would trigger a response.

His head whipped up to glare at me. "Where'd ya hear that?"

I tilted my head, waiting for an answer. The seconds ticked by.

"Nineteen," he finally snarled. "Where did ya hear those words?"

I ignored his question. "Why?"

The Redneck bared his teeth. "You spoke to Rick?"

"No," I responded, raising my gloves threateningly again. "Why?"

"Where did ya hear those words?" His voice got louder.

I thumped him across the jaw but it was only half-hearted. "Why?"

"To protect my own," he growled, turning and spitting blood on the floor.

I lowered my fists. "Me too," I said softly.

The Redneck looked at me then and for a moment the fierceness in his gaze faltered.

My eyes darted to the blood on the floor and then to the cut on his lip, deciding that his injuries would be enough to convince Negan that I hadn't been too nice with him. I began unstrapping my gloves.

"What're you doin?" he asked, his voice thick with suspicion.

"I told you," I said, pulling the mitts off. "This is all for show."

I tossed the gloves into the corner and crossed my arms. "Negan's laws are a little tough for some of us to follow. But you knew that."

"You look like yer doin' alright out of it," he said through gritted teeth.

"Shut up."

The coldness in my voice must have surprised him because he blinked at me. I leaned toward him. "You have no _idea_ ," I whispered menacingly. "I don't pretend to know what your group has had to do to survive so don't even _think_ about passing judgement on me and mine."

"That include Negan?" he asked when I turned away from him.

"Holy shit." I raked a hand through my hair in frustration. "You haven't heard a word I've said have you?"

"Yer boss clubbed one of ma friends ter death tonight," he snarled, straining against his bonds. "I'm takin' a lot on faith here that you wanna help."

"I'm not doing this out of the goodness of my heart," I snapped at him, ignoring the stab of guilt I felt at the mention of the redhead. "I'm offering my help in exchange for yours."

"The hell d'ya want from me?"

"Your people," I said. "We need numbers if we're going to get away from Negan."

"Maybe yer folks shoulda tried helping us then," he said angrily. "When we actually had the upper hand."

I let out a bark of laughter. I couldn't help it. "You actually think your people had the upper hand?" I asked, shaking my head in disbelief. "You hit _one_ compound."

"We killed a whole bunch of yer people," the Redneck said, frowning.

I held up a finger. "Not my people. _His_ people. And that was just the head of the snake."

"Snake's die when ya cut their heads off," he snapped.

"Yes, but Negan isn't the snake," I responded. "He's the poison."

A long silence stretched between us and I debated just leaving him there. I respected his decision to protect his people, and frankly I was somewhat impressed by it. But when it came down to it, the only person who had vouched for him so far was currently locked in what nowadays passed for a mental institution.

"What's yer name?" It was the Redneck who at last broke the silence.

I hesitated. I didn't give my name often and I didn't request them either. It made things too personal.

"Mak." I tried to sound indifferent, knowing that we'd have to likely exchange names anyway if I wanted his help. But it still felt like I was offering a piece of myself. _Another piece that I would never get back._

The Redneck's mouth dropped a little. "Mac?"

I raised a challenging eyebrow. "Yep."

"Mac's a little butch ain't it?" he continued, his eyes skimming my figure sceptically. "Somethin' bout you I should know about?"

"Yes, I'm actually a man impersonating a woman to get in amongst Negan's ranks," I answered sarcastically.

When he didn't respond, I sighed in exasperation. "It's short for Makayla," I explained impatiently.

"Still sounds like a boy's name ter me," he grumbled lightly but I could hear the faint amusement in his voice.

"Look," I said, my patience wearing thin. "Are you in or out?"

He stared at me for a long time. "I gotta talk to Rick about this."

"That's not going to happen."

"Girl," he growled. "This ain't gonna work if I can't talk to ma people."

"I just gave you my name," I said icily. "You'll use it from now on."

"You like givin' orders don't ya, Girl?"

My fist twitched at my side again but I held myself back. I gave him a pass. _Again_. "And what do I call you?"

"Darryl."

"We'll have another chat again soon," I said, moving towards the doors. "You'll need your rest for tomorrow."

"Can't hardly wait," he growled.

"I'll have the guards take you back to your cell." I paused at the doorway. "Don't ask after me."

He scoffed but I needed to be clear.

"Just don't," I said firmly. "Or you'll wish Negan had ended you too."

I only heard three faint words as I slipped out of the training room but they cast a dark aura upon me long after I left him.

" _I already do_."

* * *

Negan was gone by the time I got back to our rooms. No doubt partying with the boys over another group they'd left dead in the water. I yanked off my training clothes, throwing them into the basket near the bathroom. Generators allowed us to heat our water but, like everything else, hot water was rationed. And rations were _earned_.

I stepped under the cool water, shivering as the coldness seeped into my body. This was better. Reminded me that the world was not what it used to be. I would have loved to leave my problems in the shower but my mind was racing a thousand miles a minute. I couldn't stop thinking about what Kaitlin had said. About the pregnant woman. And about the Redneck. _Darryl._

I lathered my hands with soap and let my palms glide across my body. My hair absorbed the water quickly, weighing down the heavy tresses so that the ends brushed against my hip. I wanted to cut it but Negan insisted I keep it long. I closed my eyes and turned my face into the water, hoping to wash away my scattered thoughts.

After an hour under the water, my body couldn't take the chill anymore and I shut the water off. I wrapped a towel around myself, shuddering slightly as I stepped out of the shower cubicle.

"Don't get out."

My body shuddered for another reason as I closed my eyes in dismay.

Negan's arms wrapped around me from behind, his skin feeling rather warm compared to the coolness left behind by the shower. "You didn't use the heat." I could hear the disapproval in his voice.

"Didn't want to," I lied softly. He brushed my dripping hair over my shoulder and turned me to face him.

I immediately smelled the alcohol on his breath and I tensed. He ran his palms up and down my arms in a comforting manner. "M' tired Mac," he murmured, his hands coming up to cup my face. "Come to bed, Love."

My breath escaped my lips in a silent sigh of relief and I nodded. "Let me just dry off," I said, nuzzling my cheek gently into his palm. His arms fell back to his sides and he half walked, half stumbled his way to the bed.

I rolled my eyes. If I only had myself to worry about I honestly would have whacked him over the head with Lucille long ago. He even kept said weapon in our bedchamber, as if I didn't already have enough nightmares of that thing.

By the time I dried off, Negan was dead to the world, his snoring somewhat muffled by the fact that he was lying face down in the covers. The night was cold but with the alcohol flooding his system, he had no problem sleeping above the blankets. I cursed silently as I yanked on the blankets to no avail, hoping to seek any measure of warmth from them. I curled into his side as I clambered onto the bed, pulling my legs up close to my body.

Negan mumbled in his sleep, rolling over and pulling me flush against him. I froze for a moment and then very determinedly grasped the covers underneath him. With a hard tug, I pulled a small portion of the blanket free and quickly piled under it.

Of all the things I had to do with Negan, it was ironically these moments that I hated myself the most. Because despite everything, his cruelty, his vindictiveness and his hunger for power, I felt safe here. I was _sleeping_ with the enemy and I felt safe with him. Every other moment of every day, I was in constant fear for the safety of my girls, fear that Negan would discover my deceit. But here, here in his bed, I could pretend that none of those fears were real.

I could pretend he was someone else; that _I_ was someone else and not some girl playing at being a hero.


End file.
